


Leave Me In Chains

by nataliaromanovas



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom - A. C. Crispin
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bittersweet, Desk Sex, Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, gibbs is a good first mate, mercer has a voyeur kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 10:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10511682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nataliaromanovas/pseuds/nataliaromanovas
Summary: "We've had dealings in the past. And we each left our mark on the other"





	

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this is another collab with my wife who sadly still does not have an ao3 account! we tried our hand at writing seriously for once hahahaha! we mostly alternated every paragraphs but i wrote all the raunchy bits and she doubles up occasionally! title is from 'mercy' by hurts which is a funky song btw

Beckett reached his hand into the pocket of his overcoat, mindlessly running his thumb over the cool metal of _'Captain'_ Jack Sparrow's most prized possession. Back when they were just boys working together for the EITC, Jack and Beckett would stay up all night talking of the many myths and legends of the seven seas - from Davy Jones to the Isla de Muerta. The one that echoed in his very soul was the tale of a compass- one that didn't point north, but instead to whatever or.... whomever the holder desires most in the world. Beckett removed it from his pocket fully to check its fickle bearing and glared at the needle as it spun aimlessly before coming to a stop outside the window, pointing out towards the sea. The small man clicked his tongue in disdain as he looked out from his quarters on HMS Endeavour, then slammed the compass shut and pirouetted on his heel back towards his desk which was laidened with tin figurines resembling both pirates and members of the EITC.

Beckett absentmindedly ran his fingers across the cool, mahogany edge of his desk, wrinkling his nose as his fingertips came away coated with dust. The surface needed to be cleaned but he couldn't bring himself to move the figurines. The compass's heavy weight in his closed fist reminded him of his true desires and he set it down on the desk, taking a seat with a sigh. Steepling his fingers, he stared across the room at the map of the world, considering it. He wondered if he went to any corner of it, would he ever forget where the compass was truly pointing? But he was dragged out of his thoughts when he heard a knock on the door.

"You may enter." Beckett begrudgingly called out to whoever was behind the door, annoyance coating his tongue and saturating the atmosphere. Mercer hestantily inched the door open before lurking in the entrance.  
"Bloody hell, are you coming in or not, Mercer? I'm a very busy man you know, the King doesn't just dish out Lordships willy-nilly." Beckett snarked. A deep and seething rage was beginning to rise up in the pit of his stomach and he felt his heart drop, almost like he expected someone else to have appeared in his quarters at this time of night. Somewhere, in the deep recess of Beckett's mind came the sweet smell of spiced rum and the salt of the sea air and tanned skin with callused hands and beaded dreadlocks and- fuck! Suddenly the sound of a forced, gravelly cough echoed through Beckett's sizeable quarters and he shook his head to dismiss his thoughts.  
"Sir... are you alright?" Mercer quirked an eyebrow - half out of curiosity and half in a knowing way.

"I'm fine," Beckett replied shortly, waving a dismissive hand. "What are you here for?" Mercer jerked a hand towards the window.  
"See for yourself, sir." Beckett moved to the window and peered through the sea-misted panes to see... a ship with black flags sailing in the distance. His heart accelerated at the sight. It was The Black Pearl. His palms sweaty, Beckett almost had to stop himself from ordering a parley, but he knew it was too risky.  
"Do you want to order an attack, sir?" Mercer asked. Beckett bristled at his words.  
"No, I don't want a bloody attack," he snapped. "We don't need to veer off course for useless fighting." Mercer looked momentarily surprised before his face went neutral again.  
"Yes, sir." And with that, he left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Beckett alone again.

A tide of disgust washed over him as he realised that no matter where he travelled, from the Americas to the West Indies, Beckett would never feel quite as free as he did when Jack was beside him. However the bitter ashes of betrayal still caught in Beckett's mouth and choked him every time he thought of the _pirate_ , causing him to snarl at the window and turn away once more. Beckett prayed to a god he didn't believe in that The Pearl and The Endeavour would pass by each other without notice, just as the moon and sun pass one another without ever touching. 

But his hopes were in vain. He felt his heart sinking as he heard the customary cry, "Ship with black sails, dead ahead!" and the ensuing thundering of feet as the East India men got ready to board the opposing ship. The door to his office swung open again, Mercer appearing in the gap with a twisted sort of mirthful look on his haggard features.  
"Looks like we've got no choice." he said, eyes looking hard at Beckett to gauge his reaction.  
"Fine!" Beckett acquiesced. "Prepare to signal for parley and I will board alone." Mercer looked dubious.  
"Alone? Are you sure, sir?" he asked unhelpfully. Beckett glared at him.  
"Yes, I'm sure. Now raise the flags and get us to the Pearl's starboard."

Beckett boarded Jack's precious Pearl with such grace, despite them being aware that he was walking head-on into danger. His high heeled boots clicked on the wooden boards of the deck in a calculated rhythm as he walked calmly towards Jack. Beckett removed the compass from his pocket, debating whether or not to just hand it over, or whether he should have a little fun first. He opened it and checked the bearing, and sure enough the mocking needle was pointing straight towards Jack.  
"Bastard," Beckett mumbled and drew in a sharp breath. He slammed the compass shut, ignoring the taunts coming from the back of his mind, and dangled it in front of Jacks eyes before replacing it back in his pocket.  
"Looking for this, are we?" Beckett asked as he raised an eyebrow slyly, having regained his calm composure. Jack made a point of looking Beckett up and down and licking his lips in a way that shot electricity straight into the pit of his stomach before offering his reply.  
"Amongs' _other things_ , Lord." he slurred as he waved an arm out and gave a sarcastic curtsey. 

"And what might those _'other things'_ be, Jack?" Beckett replied smoothly, refusing to let Jack get the upper hand in front of the whole pirate crew.  
"Well, that's for me to know and you to ponder, isn't it?" Jack responded softly, a smile playing on his lips, his sun-beaten skin radiant in the light, his hands callused and strong. Beckett closed his eyes and counted to three before opening them again and looking Jack dead in the eye.  
"How about we continue this talk in your quarters, hm?" Jack looked like he was going to protest, but he must have seen the suggestive glint in Beckett eyes as he smiled and said,  
"Of course." A man with impressive muttonchops, clearly the first mate, stepped forwards and said,  
"Careful, Jack. Ye don't know what these East India Trading bastards are planning." Jack shot a sharp look at his unruly first mate and he stepped back into line.  
"How about we go below deck, then?" Jack purred, making Beckett's knees weak. But he walked with strong steps as he followed Jack to his quarters.

"What exactly do you intend to do, Jack? You know I came alone. My crew will be suspicious if I'm... _gone_... too long," Beckett reasoned, but there was no conviction to his words as all he craved was for Jack to be near him again.  
"Do you want to fuck or not, mate?" Jack smirked as he watched the smaller man's ears turn beet-red while he spluttered indignantly at the question before sauntering towards his door. No sooner than they had stepped a foot in to the Captain's quarters, Jack slammed Beckett against the wall forcefully and tilted his head up to look into his eyes. Beckett let out a soft moan as his knees threatened to give way once more.  
"That keen to see me again, eh?" Jack teased, his dreadlocks perfectly framing his sea-worn face.  
"Shut the fuck up and kiss me already!" Beckett spat, but there was no trace of venom in it as they slipped back in to their old habits with ease.  
"Always did like to order me around..." Jack jested, but the glare Beckett gave him convinced him to do as he was told. Jack kissed Beckett in a way that stopped time itself. It started slowly at first, as though Beckett were a porcelain doll ready to break at the slightest touch, but soon picked up pace until everything was on fire. Jack bit down on Beckett's bottom lip and was met with a loud moan. They pulled apart, panting frantically as though their lives depended on it, and Jack moved his mouth to Beckett's ear.  
"You're _mine_ ," Jack whispered, his warm rum-soaked breath ghosting over Beckett's flesh.

Beckett felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and a shiver ran down the length of his spine.  
"Am I really?" he whispered boldly, watching Jack's pupils dilate with desire. Jack's response was to push him harder against the wall so that the shorter man's toes barely grazed the wooden panelled floor. Beckett shuddered as Jack's breath misted across the smooth porcelain expanse of his neck.  
"Yes, you are," Jack murmured, his lips grazing Beckett's throat. "And I'm going to prove it to you."

Beckett wrapped his legs around Jack as he hoisted him up, firm hands gripping Beckett's arse to secure him. Jack slowly walked them backwards and continued to kiss Beckett as though he were holy, for in this moment he truly was. There was no one Jack knew quite as well, no one he could reduce to a quivering puddle quite like Beckett.  
"Good God, Jack," Beckett whispered in-between kisses. The side of the bed hit the back of Jacks knees and he spun around to set Beckett down, who whined at the sudden lack of warmth. Jack stood at the foot of his bed and kicked off his boots. Beckett followed suit and flung off his own, sighing as they hit the floor with a muffled thud. Jack ripped off his blouse and once more Beckett followed, throwing off his overcoat, then undercoat before moving his hand to his cravat.  
"Ah-ah. That's for me to do." Jack said softly as he moved towards Beckett's heaving chest.

Beckett stifled a groan as Jack's tanned hands inched towards his cravat, his lean fingers winding slowly around the white silk fabric of the neck garment and teasingly pulling it off. Beckett had never thought the removal of such a small piece of material could have been so emancipating, but it was at the moment when it was almost off that he felt suddenly stifled. He jerked his head to the side and the cravat lifted off into Jack's grip. The dreadlocked pirate grinned down at him.  
"That desperate, are we, love?" Beckett responded with a whine and started to fumble at Jack's own shirt.

After what felt like an age, but was most certainly no more than a few minutes, both Jack and Beckett had been liberated from their suffocating blouses. Beckett ran a hand from Jack's scarred spine to the nape of his neck, admiring the intricate tattoos adorning his muscular body before pulling him down into a sloppy kiss. Their teeth clacked together but Beckett didn't mind; he was too preoccupied by the sheer desperation and desire he felt in his ribs. He wanted, no, needed Jack - fast. Beckett went to remove his powdered white wig when suddenly Jack pulled away.  
"No... leave it on." he purred, his eyes clouded with lust. Beckett shrugged, moved his hands back to Jacks waist and began to kiss his neck feverishly. The petite man paused tentatively over a spot on Jacks neck before biting down and sucking. Jack groaned as he dug his nails into Beckett's back and his hips involuntarily jerked forward, brushing over Beckett's crotch. A soft gasp escaped from his mouth at this contact and his stomach flipped in response. 

"God Jack, take my bloody trousers off and get on with it already," Beckett whined, unable to wait any longer for Jack to take him.  
"So impatient, eh luv? I want you to beg for me. I want everyone to know I brought Lord Cutler Beckett to his knees with just... one ... _touch_." Jack let the last words roll off his tongue painfully slowly.  
"Please Jack... dear Lord, please. By all that is holy, I need you now." How one man could reduce Beckett to a whimpering mess was beyond him, but all notions of shame and sensibility had been left on the floor along with their clothing. Jack smirked in knowing that he had control, that he was the only one who could see Beckett at his most vulnerable. 

He moved to unbutton Beckett's trousers, but in his eagerness he ripped them off, along with his underwear. Jack looked up and saw the spark in Beckett's usually ice cold eyes and gave him another heated kiss as the smaller man worked off Jack's own trousers, throwing them to the side. 

Beckett pushed Jack's shoulders and rolled him over so he was on top, kneeling either side of Jack's hips. He leaned down and was about to kiss Jack when the door suddenly burst open. The door banged into the wall and bounced back, hitting whoever was barging in and giving Beckett and Jack a second to scramble into less compromising positions. Beckett leapt across the room and hid behind the desk, clutching a pillow to his chest and trying not to laugh with embarrassed exhilaration. Jack meanwhile, only had time to sit up before Mercer appeared round the door, a look of intense suspicion marring his face.  
"Where's Lord Beckett?" he demanded. Jack shrugged casually and smirked.  
"How did you even get down here so fast?" he asked, amused and bemused simultaneously. "Didn't Gibbs stop you?" With perfect timing, Gibbs sprinted into sight, out of breath and anxious. He grabbed Mercer by the collar.  
"Sorry, Captain!" he gasped. "He got past me!" He yanked hard on Mercer and dragged him towards the door.  
"I know about you," Mercer snarled. "I know about you and him." Jack smirked but didn't speak. And, just before Gibbs pulled the door shut in front of Mercer's face, Beckett stood up from behind the desk and said,  
"Ian, go fuck yourself." Jack laughed and added,  
"Because nobody else is going to!" They saw the look of fury on Mercer's face before the door shut and they were finally alone.

Once his anger had quelled, Beckett felt his blood run cold and his heart sink as he realised his secret had been uncovered, by Mercer none the less.  
"I- I should go," he said, groping around for his clothes on the floor. Then he felt two strong arms wrap around his waist and pull him in.  
"Come back to bed," Jack whispered as he moved in to suck on Beckett's neck. And with that, Beckett felt all his doubt and worry fade away, only to be replaced by a yearning for Jack to be inside him. He tried to speak but his breath hitched in his throat as Jack set to work on another spot of Beckett's neck.  
"Christ!" He called out in pleasure as Jack left his mark on him. "I can't wait any longer, Jack. I want you to fuck me right here on the desk," Beckett begged, occasionally punctuating his words with soft moans, looking deplorably disheveled.

"Not even a please? What 'appened to your prim 'n' proper English manners, Lord?" Jack teased, stroking his thumb over Beckett's cheek.  
"I advise you not to test my patience, good Captain," Beckett replied as he took Jack's hand in his. He brought Jack's rough fingers in his mouth and sucked, pulling them out with an audible pop. "You know what to do...." Beckett trailed off, giving Jack a lazy smirk. Jack slicked himself up before working one, then two and finally three fingers inside of Beckett's arse.  
"Ready?" Jack whispered against Beckett's clammy skin.  
"God yes, just do me already!" Beckett practically screamed at Jack, writhing in anticipation.  
"If it hurts just say and I'll-" Jack began, only to be interrupted by Beckett shouting manically,  
"Jack - I swear, if you aren't inside me within the next two minutes I will blow your ship to smithereens!" Jack feigned shock at Beckett's outburst.  
"As you wish, Sir!" 

Beckett's grip on the edge of the wooden desk tightened, knuckles turning white, and he let a gasp slip from his parted lips as Jack's cock filled him up. The two men stayed perfectly still for a few moments, Jack's quarters entirely silent aside from their synchronised panting until Beckett spoke,  
"For heavens sake, move. Move, Jack!"

Slowly but steadily Jack began to thrust into Beckett, his hands gripping either side of the smaller mans hips. Beckett moaned softly at each movement, his volume increasing as Jack moved faster and more frequently.  
"God, harder!" Beckett called out, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead into his doe-like eyelashes. Beckett's screams of pleasure rang out and echoed off the wooden walls of the ship with each thrust.  
"Fuck, do that again" he shrieked as Jack hit a spot inside that made Beckett see stars. The desk was creaking under the force as Jack slammed into Beckett repeatedly.  
"B-Beckett, I'm going t-" Jack started, but words failed him as he released inside of Beckett with a scream. This was enough to send Beckett over the edge himself as his toes curled under and he too screamed out into the dimly lit room. The two men stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, chests heaving and shivering from the sweat cooling on their skin before Jack pulled out.  
"I think I love you," Beckett whispered aloud, the control he so loved to maintain lost in the haze of the moment. 

Jack didn't know what to say. He wanted to say he loved Beckett too but he'd never committed so fast before, let alone to another man. He was used to having one night stands with prostitutes, not a full on relationship. He became aware of Beckett lying prone beside him, breathing hard still, waiting for a reply.  
"Well?" Beckett prompted, a touch of desperation in his tone. Jack thought hard about how he felt about Beckett. He made him happy. He didn't feel the same way about anyone else. With that, he smiled languorously and turned his head to gaze at Beckett's expectant face.  
"Love you too."

They lay there together for what felt like hours, just enjoying the other's company. Beckett lazily traced patterns on Jack's weathered skin with a fingertip until eventually the post-coital high had crashed and he felt ready to move around. He sat up slowly, listening to the creaks of the ship, the frothing of water beating against the wood and Jack's soft breathing. He looked down at the pirate's face and felt a pang of bittersweetness upon realization that they could never truly be together until they gave up everything and ran away from everyone. Jack thrived on freedom and the salt of the sea air and Beckett had spent his entire life building up his place within the stuffy, ordered East India Trading Company, so that would never be an option. Beckett shook the thoughts out of his head, deciding they would have to be content with the occasional dalliance until their hearts were ready. He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on Jack's cheek, the pirate sleepily murmured something and didn't protest as Beckett slowly went around the room, retrieving and putting back on each item of clothing, stealing a pair of Jack's trousers to replace his ripped ones. He carefully tied his cravat around his bruised and bitten neck to hide all the evidence, smoothing his wig down and casting one long, last lingering look at Jack before quietly leaving the captain's quarters. He was ignored by the pirate crew - save for a knowing look from the first mate - and he boarded his own ship without disturbance. This peace, however, was cut short when he entered his own quarters, hoping for some time alone to think, but was met with the gaunt, angry face of Ian Mercer.

Mercer drummed his fingers on the desk while he scrutinised the small tin figure of Beckett, his eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled. His head jerked upwards sharply as the sound of boots clacking resonated throughout the room.  
"Oh, I see the _ever superior_ Lord Beckett has finally graced us with his presence," Mercer snarled, his face contorting in a mix of jealousy and abhorrence.  
"I advise you to watch your tone, Mr Mercer." Beckett replied, giving his assistant a steely look, daring him to go on.  
"It is rather funny how I am the only one on this ship who knows that you adore fraternising with the enemy," Mercer continued, uncharacteristically bold. "I think it high time we let the rest of the crew know what you get up to in your spare time, hm?" 

Before Beckett could protest, Mercer grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him up on to the deck. The chaos of the sea fell eerily silent as a myriad of expectant faces looked back at the two men.  
"Does anyone want to hazard a guess as to where the prodigy of the Company has been throughout the night? Anyone?" Mercer bellowed menacingly at the crew of HMS Endeavour, delighted internally as he watched them exchange panicked looks with one another. Beckett stood with his lips pursed and brows furrowed until Lieutenant Groves nervously spoke up.  
"I-I assume the East India Trading Company has need of The Pearl's services?" he offered with a raised hand. Mercer scoffed and his scowl deepened.  
"This is the only _service_ the Captain of The Black Pearl can offer our very own representative of King George II," Mercer sneered as he snatched off Beckett's cravat to reveal his pale neck adorned with purple bruises. The frantic murmuring of the crew came to a crescendo, realisation setting in.  
"Enough!" Beckett shouted, having suddenly found his voice again, and the rumours came to an abrupt stop. Beckett let his chest inflate as he let out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding and he looked out only to notice that The Pearl had already disappeared into the distance, now but a dark blemish on the horizon line. Turning the compass over in his pocket again, Beckett faced the crew, tense with collective anticipation, and held his head up high before addressing the crowd.

"It's just... _good business._ "


End file.
